


Nightcap

by iamanidhwal



Category: The Arcana (Visual Novel)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Asra is a power bottom, Asra is a vers top, Asra is switch, Asrian, Banter, Bottom Julian Devorak, Brundle - Freeform, Clothing Kink, Dominant Asra (The Arcana), Gags, Good Day, Hair Kink, Hair-pulling, Ice Play, Julian is a fussy top, Julian is a service top, Julian is an unabashed bottom, Kinda, Lucio (The Arcana) Being A Dick, Lucio (The Arcana) Is A Little Shit, Lucio is a dick to everyone, M/M, Male Pronouns for Asra (The Arcana), Power Bottom Asra, Praise Kink, Red Plague (The Arcana), Semi-Public Sex, Service Top Julian Devorak, Spit As Lube, Spoilers, Stress, Stress Relief, Sweet Asra (The Arcana), The Apprentice can be any gender you want, Thoughts of self-hatred, Voice Kink, but if the need arises, can't convince me otherwise, ice kink, implied Lucio/Valerius, mentions of the Apprentice, mentions of the Apprentice's death, mentions of the Lazaret, mentions of the red plague, one-sided Lucio/Julian, semi-drunk sex, the arcana spoilers, you can say anything you want but let's just be clear
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-29
Updated: 2019-09-02
Packaged: 2020-09-26 14:28:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 13,948
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20391199
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iamanidhwal/pseuds/iamanidhwal
Summary: Being under Count Lucio's strict orders to find a cure for the Red Plague was physically, emotionally, and psychologically taxing, for lack of a better term. Ground down to their bones, each has their own daily struggle and headache, from the lowest orderly to even the Countess herself.On one particularly stressful evening, the Countess invites Asra and Julian for a nightcap. They find themselves racing to the end of a Golden Goose bottle, tryin to rid themselves of the great weight that had been pressing down on their shoulders. And as soon as the Countess leaves, they examine the restraints that they have broken free of. Raw and free, they give in to the call of flesh, seeking physical solace from each other, feverish under the light of the moon.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Super gay and super indulgent. 
> 
> I've only played this game for the better of two days and I'm already in love with it -- the game, the art, the world, the characters, and their subsequent relationships.
> 
> I plan on contributing more to the fandom especially here in ao3 -- perhaps with something longer later on, but for now, hopefully this will suffice!
> 
> SPOILERS AHEAD! Especially with regards to the apprentice's past and their relationship with Asra. I mean, also with Asra and Julian's relationship. Also implied Lucio/Valerius. I mostly got all of this from The Arcana wiki (as I love to just delve deep into the wiki lore of anything). So if I have some small details that are different from the game canon, I do apologize!
> 
> R18 stuff on chapter 3!!! Includes Service top Julian, and power bottom Asra ;^) (which is in line with my headcanon that they're both switches, particularly Asra who's a vers top uwu); This wouldn't be their first time! HC also that Julian and Asra start sneaking hot little quickies in the Palace, in Julian's clinic, and at the shops uwu 
> 
> Not to be confusing; I'm going to refer to Julian as Ilya only when Asra is calling out to him. The Countess and everyone else, even the narration, will refer to him as Julian. 
> 
> Anyway, carry on!
> 
> -new chapters added on every third day after posting!-

* * *

The sun descended on Vesuvia slowly, sinking into the horizon, but not without an explosion of color in the sky. Bright yellow gave way to orange, then rusted over with red as the orb of light slowly sank into the distant sea. In a few minutes, the horizon became purple, with the distant picture of an ashen moon hung in place. The North Star flickered into the scope of the naked eye, up above one of the many tall golden spires of the Palace.

Asra breathed deeply, closing his eyes and trying to calm his nerves down to at least abate the headache he knew was creeping up on him. After the day's events, he needn't wonder why he was stressed out, body wound so tightly that one wrong move could send him snapping - something he rarely did. The other servants in the Palace, whom he usually greeted in passing, all steered clear of his path as he paced from room to room. No doubt they saw how his eyes glossed over, trance-like as it was so often when he was deep in thought; how his hands moved as if possessed, drawing half-finished runes in the air as he raced through ideas; how his legs worked, bringing them from his work desk in the Palace library to different locations - to the veranda, then the dining room, to the Count's wing, to the kitchen, and, finally, to where he had settled -- the Palace garden.

And there he stayed for what seemed like hours -- Asra was so deep into his own thoughts that he barely realized the onset of dusk, bathing the Palace grounds with a golden sheen. He stood up from where he sat, on the edge of the fountain with a goat's figure on the center, spewing water in a substantial spray down to the marble pool below. He gazed at his reflection, rubbing at his wan cheeks, taking note of his tired expression. Frowning, he half-heartedly noted the bags under his eyes, something that had been a permanent fixture in his appearance ever since he returned to Vesuvia, and only became more prominent when he finally agreed to work under the Count.

Pieces of disjointed memories flashed in his mind's eye. The last sight of someone, their hair flying in their face in anger. Words that they've spoken sharp and angular, the room reverberating with angry energy. He never really knew what had overcome him that night, how his usually gentle demeanor warped into something dangerous and panicked. He had said things he never meant to his partner, his fellow magician, and it ended with whatever relationship they had on the floor of their shop, broken into a thousand tiny fragile pieces too fragmented to ever repair.

Asra had left the next day, escaping the dread of the Red Plague, only to come back a second too late. He had found the magician's shop in a state of unkempt, untended to and abandoned. Dusty jars and bottles on the shelves, hardbound copies on the counter untouched for what seemed like a long time. He had focused on a faint, familiar magical trail that tickled his senses, grabbing hold of it and racing across town to find them. It led him to a clinic, one that hadn't been open for a while. The building was dark, and it held an ominous energy to it that made Asra want to vomit out his meager breakfast that day.

Death clung to the air around the boarded-up clinic, thick and suffocating, and he knew he had to get out. The only sign of life in the area was a disgruntled-looking, wrinkly dog with a worn leather collar, looking as if they hadn't been groomed in months. He followed the trail, away from the clinic, away from the main thoroughfares of the city. Each step through the main road made him sick to the stomach, and when he reached the geographic limit of the trail, he nearly doubled over, positively ill. For the trail led him to the edge of the docks, and when he cast out his magic, he knew, with a sickening lurch in his stomach, that it would lead him to a dark island, the silhouette of which could be faintly seen on the horizon.

The Lazaret.

Without thinking, Asra plunged his head into the pool of water, screaming into the shallow water and scrunching up his eyes to rid himself of the horrors he had to witness to piece out what happened in the span that he had disappeared. He pulled himself back after he had exhausted his breath, scrambling back from the fountain. Gasping for air and positively drenched, he looked up at the goat figurehead still spouting water, trying to calm down enough and shake any other thoughts from his brain.

A distant bell rang, and Asra rose to his feet just as a flap of wings and a familiar caw sounded overhead. He could only see a plume of white feathers circling in the air and finally landing with an indignant squawk on a windowsill before hopping into the brightly-lit castle. 

"Dinnertime, then," he mumbled, trying to wring his clothes as much as he could. He trudged up the steps towards the Palace, mumbling a simple spell that spread warmth throughout his body and exposed skin to stop him from shivering against the cool night air. 

Asra arrived to the dinner hall, currently engulfed in a raucous cacophony of clashing sights and sounds and smells. The long table was filled with a sumptuous feast, something that Asra had gotten used to seeing every mealtime but had abhorred deep down, thinking of how little he had to go by while living in the magician's shop. To one side, where he knew Count Lucio would usually take his place at the head of the table, his chair remained vacant, as it had been for several days now. With the Count coming down with the Plague himself, he had been given strict orders to be semi-quarantined within the confines of his wing, much to his indignation. Still, his authority under the Palace was still respected, and the Countess sat on his immediate right, prim and poised as ever.

Across her was the courtier Valerius, back as equally straight and dignified as Countess Nadia. Asra noted that his wine goblet was already nearly finished, and he deftly wondered to himself whether it was even his first glass of the night. Beside Valerius was Quaestor Valdemar, who hadn't picked up their utensils and was instead busy tapping their fingers arrhythmically on the table. 

"Asra, good evening," the Countess greeted him, a small smile gracing her features. She looked relieved, as if his arrival was a welcomed distraction for the situation. "You're right on time for dinner. Why don't you join us?"

"Ah, the Magician has come to dine," came the sneering remark from Valerius, finishing off his wine. A nervous attendant hurriedly scuttled to the table to refill his glass. He was only dismissed with a disdainful flick of the courtier's fingers when the wine reached the rim of his glass. "Please, by all means, join us."

"Good evening, Countess Nadia, Consul Valerius," Asra greeted, dipping his head courteously to their direction. "Quaestor Valdemar, as well. Thank you for the invitation, but I think my state of dress would mar the ambience of tonight's dinner. I'm afraid I'll be terribly too late to join when I have changed my clothes for something drier."

"Nonsense," the Countess objected with a wave of her hand. "Dinners with the courtiers usually end up lasting hours, I assure you. Please, take your time. I expect you to return."

Asra gulped a little as he met the steely gaze of the Countess, as though daring he refused. He wisely didn't, mumbling a hurried apology before retreating from the dining room and into the hallway leading to his guest room. After a half-hour he had successfully changed into something much more dignified, with pieces of clothing given by the Countess as a gift. He returned to the dining room, wearing a corset-like piece that was a rich navy color, but had a bodice and sleeves made of a light, see-through material he couldn't quite place. He wore a pair of pleated culottes of the same color, the material still light but less sheer, as well as some boots that reached his knees. 

Asra remembered taking one look at the pieces as it was given to him by a servant, quickly noticing the subtle but no less intricate beadwork on the linings of the corset and tried to give it back, but the Countess had insisted. So when he turned up to the dinner, with those in attendance already tucking into their plates of dessert, he blushed when the servants cooed at him. The Countess' eyes shone with satisfaction. 

"Wise choice," she hummed, and Asra could only bow and murmur thanks as he sat down on the chair beside her which she gestured to. 

The servants standing attended to him at once, fitting the space in front of him with the necessary utensils, a glass of water and an empty goblet should he want to drink, and a plate of desserts. The brightly-colored spheres of sorbet made him smile, and he himself said a solemn thanks before picking up a piece of silverware to eat with.

"As I was saying," the Countess said, turning back to the table and continuing a conversation Asra hadn't been privvy to until his arrival, "I will be needing a report on the recorded deaths and experimentations for those affected with the Plague, Quaestor Valdemar. How goes progress?"

"Slow," the Quaestor scoffed, leaning forward on their elbows and still drumming their fingers on the table. They pulled down their mask, revealing a wide toothy grin that held no warmth, only malice. It made Asra's skin subtly crawl. "Doctor No. 069 is stressed beyond belief. He's not making much headway recently."

"Perhaps if you let the man sleep for more than a few hours, he'd be of more use," Consul Valerius quipped into his goblet, side-eyeing his fellow courtier, who merely shrugged and tilted their head.

"He's a smart man, with a good brain," they replied, picking up a butter knife and twirling it around easily between their gloved fingers with only a modicum of interest and attention. "I need it used as much as I can, and that means more waking hours."

"Surely that doesn't prove practical as it is in theory," Countess Nadia reproached, a flash of worry on her face. "And you barely even know his name. It's Doctor Devorak. Julian Devorak."

At the mention of Julian, Asra quickly ducked his head down and focused on eating his sorbet. He could feel the tips of his ears grow hot at the thought of the Doctor, who he had sometimes worked alongside with in the library. Locked in the same room together, he couldn't help but be equal parts amazed and annoyed as the flamboyant man would pace around the room, mumbling to himself and loudly exclaiming or bemoaning when an idea would occur and subsequently turn out to be a failure. Asra, who worked and studied best in a calm, peaceful environment, usually found it hard to do his research in the same room as the other man.

He just naturally grated on his nerves. So, _so _annoying.

"Practice is as good as theory. Numbers are also good." The Quaestor stood up abruptly, slamming the butter knife on the table and sending a tremor through the surface. Asra jumped in surprise, the only one to do so. The Countess merely regarded them with little scrutiny. The Consul barely looks up at them. "I must go, I need to see what he's up to."

"Quaestor, please, the reports --" Countess Nadia called after them, but it was too late. The Quaestor had slipped away from the dining hall, seemingly unperturbed by the rudeness of the situation. With a sigh, the Countess turned to Asra. "I apologize for that."

Before Asra could open his mouth, Consul Valerius interjected himself into the conversation. "You shouldn't, really. The Quaestor is doing an experiment on Devorak."

"Oh?" Asra blinked, surprised at the sudden clarity from the Consul. It surprised him even more when the servant came up to him to refill his goblet, but the Consul held up his hand to stop him. "What kind of experiment would that be?"

"Forcing an epiphany," he stated blandly, as though the very thought of it was beneath him. "Trying to work the doctor to the bone in hopes that he teeters between the precipice, and, in his state of exhaustion, make a leap that he would otherwise not have done in a well-rested state."

Asra frowned. "That's... just absurd."

"Indeed," the Countess agreed, worrying her lip in concern. 

There was an indignant squawk from overhead and the bird that Asra had seen earlier in the evening circled over the table. It landed squarely on Valerius' shoulder, shaking out his feathers impatiently. Camio, the Count's cockatoo, stood high and proud, its plumage of pure white only disrupted by the gold feathers on its head held high. Asra internally sniggered at how such an animal could perfectly represent its owner. 

"Valerius!" It cawed out, leaning forward with wings spread. Its beady eyes fixed on the man he had just landed on. "Valerius!"

"Duty calls," the Consul whispered, rising from his seat and going in the direction of the Count's wing.

From working in the Palace, Asra had become privvy to what essentially was an open secret within castle grounds -- one that included Consul Valerius and the Count himself. Valerius excused himself from the presence of the Countess, and gave Asra a perfunctory nod which he returned, and he swiftly turned on his heel and walked out the door, his black robes billowing and his braided hair whipping around his shoulders. 

Once the doors closed, the Countess heaved a great sigh and slumped on the chair she was in. "May I be forward with you, dear Asra?"

He blinked in surprise, but straightened. "Of course, Countess."

"Nadia, please. We're basically alone as it is."

"...Nadia."

"Thank you," she mumbled, waving for the attendants to take away their platters. "I think I might need something strong tonight... Vicenze?"

"Yes, Countess?" A tall, lanky orderly stepped forward attentively. 

"Fetch me a bottle of Golden Goose." A beat, and she added, "Three goblets. And if you can, fetch for Doctor Devorak. Tell him I need the compiled reports from last week until today. Make him come to the veranda. Asra and I will be having a nightcap. Just us, and maybe Doctor Devorak, if he wants to join."

In a flash, Asra's cheeks flared a bright shade of red. So sudden that even the Countess was surprised. "Asra, are you alright?"

"Y-Yes." He stammered out, rubbing the palms of his hands on his culottes. It suddenly felt all too hot in the room, and he fanned himself to try and calm down.

Nadia's eyebrows furrowed. "Perhaps we should proceed to the veranda."

Asra nodded, and both of them rose, with Nadia leading him out to the spacious veranda. The servants had already set up a couple of outdoor chairs and a loveseat, surrounding a low glass table. Asra gulped in air, in his nose and out through his mouth, relaxing slowly as the chill air of the evening cooled him down. As soon as he was back to normal, Nadia motioned for him to take space in the loveseat, having already seated herself in one of the single chairs. A small pail filled half-way through with ice was already set on the table, a shiny golden bottle with an imprint of a goose on the side in it. 

Behind them, he could hear the muffled voices of the servants clearing up the dining hall from the other side of the thick curtains drawn for seclusion and privacy. Nadia tilted her head, clearing her throat. 

"Oh." Asra leaned forward to pour for them both, handing her a filled goblet with the shiny golden liquid wafting up warm notes of berries and spice. He raised his glass as well. "A toast?"

Nadia mirrored him. "To Vesuvia."

"To Vesuvia," he repeated, before sipping the contents of his glass. It coated his tongue with delectable notes, and it went down his throat easily. No burning sensation, but it did pool into warmth on his chest and stomach. Asra caught himself smiling at the flavor.

Nadia must have seen his smile, too, because she hummed in delight. "I'm glad you like it. It's one of my favorites... I always keep a few bottles for myself to cherish on special occasions."

"Is this a special occasion then, Nadia?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. A curl of silver hair had dropped, framing his eyes as he drank more. 

"I believe it to be." She nodded and looked up at the sky. Directly above them hung the moon, surrounded by an array of stars, varying in size and brightness, each contrasting with the deep dark of night. "To hold a day special is relative, don't you think? An ordinary day for you can be special to me."

"The same can be said the other way around," Asra hummed thoughtfully. 

"Yes, well, I drink to celebrate special days." She smiled, a twinkle in her eye. "Even if it's not mine to relish."

He raised an eyebrow, smiling in return. "Whose special day are you celebrating?"

Nadia's shoulders raised and rolled back down with great ease, a graceful shrug. "I have no idea yet. Perhaps it's my husband's. Perhaps a weary traveller's in the streets. Perhaps even yours." 

She raised her eyebrows as Asra scoffed in reply, merely drinking some more. "Ah, but I must ask you more of how you find the Palace. Have they been treating you well? Has the Count given you too much to do?"

He jolted upright, surprised. "Nadia, I - "

"Please don't hold back on me, Asra." Nadia's mouth was set in a stern line, but not reproachful of him. "The Count is down with an illness, and so in his stead I must do his duties to make everything in the Palace run as smoothly as possible. You and Doctor Devorak may be working under him, but you are still guests of the Palace. It is my duty, both as Countess and as stand-in for my husband, that I see to your every need."

"No, please, I'm quite alright," Asra said quickly, blushing at the sudden onslaught of attention directed his way. "Really, Nadia, thank you so much. I don't really need the luxury items you've given me, all those jewelries and clothes..."

"They are _gifts,_" Nadia stressed, holding out her empty goblet. Asra quickly refilled it. "Not bribes, nor favors to be cashed in in the near, foreseeable future. Please, do not worry about them. And don't hold back if you need or want anything."

"But - "

"If you're so concerned, then I'll indulge you with the information that I give Doctor Devorak the same attention," she added, crossing her slender legs and leaning back on her chair. "He says he's keeping them somewhere else for safe-keeping, possibly for the next Masquerade. He says he's not sure whether or not he'll receive such fine pieces of clothing ever again in the course of his lifetime."

"Always with the exaggeration," Asra mumbled in amusement as he finished his own goblet, then refilled it. "He's always like that, you know. Ilya... I mean, uh, Devorak."

"Hmm." Somehow, he could feel the Countess' eyes on him, and he looked away, pretending to be fascinated by the trees in the Palace Garden. Illuminated by moonlight, their leaves shone silver and swayed in the evening breeze, making it look like the surroundings were a pitch black ocean, only broken by the silver waves upon treetops. "I didn't know you knew him quite personally."

"Well, he talks too much," Asra said, finally meeting her gaze, and feeling a bit incensed that the Countess' whole demeanor was playful. _Teasing. _"A-And he's too dramatic. One time, I stretched my legs out and I bumped his desk which is right across mine. His inkwell toppled over. It sent him right into a fit! Completely unwarranted for, as his inkwell was _dry _at the time!"

"Oh, my," was all Nadia could say in between her giggling and drinking from her goblet. "The servants have told me that ever since you both have taken daily residency in the Palace library, the room has felt and sounded more alive than it has in years." She tilted her head, cheeks flushed pink because of her drink. "I am happy that this is the case. The Plague has all but taken the color of life from Vesuvia... I would hate for it to permeate in every and all orifices of this city, this Palace included."

He worried his lip between his teeth, then patted her hand, brief but reassuring. "We'll do our hardest, Nadi. The only one who's working to the bone here more than myself is arguably Devorak."

"Yes, and that concerns me," she grumbled, her fine features settling into a frown. "What the Quaestor must be thinking, as though this is going to accomplish anything..."

"Is that the reason you invited me for a nightcap?" Asra asked, half-teasing. "To offer an opportunity for the Doctor to relax and unwind?"

"Not just the Doctor, but you as well." She raised both eyebrows, smirking. "You said it yourself that either you or Doctor Devorak work the hardest under this Palace. I myself am in need of a little celebration, a little libation. A little reminder that there is still a smaller world of mine, hidden away behind the Palace walls, that the Plague cannot enter and rip away from me."

Asra nodded, sympathizing with the Countess. Had it not been for the Plague, he could imagine himself living life very differently. Perhaps still in the magician's shop, working with his partner, who would still be alive and well. Perhaps going out on many self-indulgent adventures, to try and study more of the arcane magic he has practiced for years. Perhaps even expand their reaches, grow connections. Not up in the Palace, racing against time for a cure of a plague that seemed intent on destroying everything in its path.

The Countess called out to him again. "Asra, I have a favor to ask... Although I'm not sure if you can help me."

"Of course, Nadi. Please, anything."

"Do you have a spell to calm my nerves?" She asked weakly. "Something that would last all day? I'm afraid being thrust in to fill two seats of power is physically and emotionally taxing. It does not do well for a lady in power to have a shaky resolve in times when the city looks to her for help."

"Oh." Asra nodded. "Yes, I have just the thing, but the problem is, this spell will require me to be by your side all the time when you need it to work. And it's very taxing on my end, so if you need me to do anything else with my magic, I'll have to release you and do something else. I'm afraid if I cast my magic out to do too many things all at once, it will be spread too thin, and can be quite difficult to control as a result."

"I see." The look on Nadia's face was crestfallen, and her gaze dropped to scrutinize the insides of her glass. 

Asra bit his lip. "I might have something, though." He leaned back against the loveseat, legs crossed. He imagined his partner telling him this, teaching him how to relax long enough for his inner thoughts to settle. "You'll have to just trust and copy me. Would that be alright?"

"Ah, an exercise?" Nadia smiled and put her glass down on the table before clasping her hands together over her lap. "Yes, that would be most welcome."

"Great." Asra grinned. "Close your eyes, like mine."

"Mm-hm."

"Focus on your other senses, particularly your sense of hearing and smelling." As he dictates his own instructions, he tries to follow them too. "What do you sense?"

"I... sense the cold breeze. Fresh air." Nadia's voice seemed tentative, as though seeking out affirmation from Asra that this was what he was asking for. 

"Good, good. Anything else?"

"The servants, inside. Chattering, but in hushed tones. The breeze wafting over the trees. The bustle of the servants below."

"Good. Now channel that, and try to create a room in your head. Let all of the things you sense flow through you. Don't block them, and don't reach out to them. You are a fish in a stream. Aware, but not moving. Only following wherever the current takes you. In time, it will take you to a peaceful place, something you yourself personally feel safe from everything. Don't tell me about it, but please, stay in it as long as you can."

They both went still and silent, Asra focusing on his breathing to try and follow his own instructions. He embraces the familiar quiet, dipping into the void that creeps up around the edges of his ever-active mental eye. He doesn't see anything, only a sliver of pale, bluish light that extends from his feet, ever onward. He follows it with no further thought. Time felt warped, because he didn't know if it had been seconds, minutes, or even hours. As soon as he had realized he had been walking, the trail abruptly stops by a door. It was made out of old, dark wood, the faint smell of it permeating through his senses. There were gold writings around the door, but he couldn't decipher them himself. 

At this, Asra frowned. This was a different door than before. When he would do this calming exercise, it usually led him to the worn, familiar door of the magician's shop. Even before he opened, it would smell like the different herbs and spices they would have in stock. Opening it, he would see the magician, beaming down at him and welcoming him home, with Faust casually slithering around their shoulders. But this door, he had never seen it before. Not in visions, nor in his simple calming mental exercise.

Extremely cautious, he knocked thrice; not too loud, but clear enough to signal anyone who may be inside that he was coming in. He turned the knob, and the door swung inwards easily. Asra crossed the threshold, noting the smell quickly - air that was a little stale, old books, the smell of parchment, smoke from a recently-extinguished candle, ink... and something else. Something that was fresh, that made him think of freedom, but he knew didn't belong in such a place sequestered in a corner of the world.

"Hello?" He called out, his footsteps muffled by carpeted floors of a rich maroon. The scene around him shifts, the darkness that enveloped him now brightening up as if the sun had moved the span of half a day in a matter of seconds. Exposed brick walls were covered almost ceiling-to-floor with dark, wooden bookshelves teeming with tomes of various sizes, colors and age. An array of chairs were positioned around the floor, all in the same design and color but designed to have differing levels of privacy and seclusion. At the center wall, there was no bookshelf; instead, a large arched window made up of stained glass was on it, the light of the day streaming inward. The delightful twitter of birds outside reached his ears. 

At once, Asra felt at peace. He didn't want to admit it, but there was a feeling akin to child-like wonder when he had first stepped foot into the Palace library. Of course, he would never ever dream to be permanently sequestered in such a confined space, his innate wanderlust firmly taking hold of his resolve for life. But he could not ignore the _call _of the room, how positively powerful it felt. He guessed that it _would _be powerful, what with the amount of knowledge from all corners of Vesuvia and, perhaps, even beyond it, carefully stocked and shelved within.

"Hey, Magician."

He turned around to see the source of the disembodied voice, and found Doctor Devorak - no, _Ilya - _leaning back against his deck, arms folded across his open, white shirt. Auburn hair tousled as if he had run his hand through it for many times, a habit Asra said was annoying but secretly found endearing. Steely grey eyes roam over Asra's body, and he shivered as though he was physically touching him. 

"Why are you here?" he asked, not moving from his spot.

Julian smirked. "I'm not really sure myself. This _is _your own mind, is it not?"

"What is that supposed to mean?"

Julian barked out a laugh, throwing his head back and exposing his long, unmarked neck. "Oh, I didn't know this would happen. How very easy."

At this, Asra was beginning to get more annoyed. It was easy to get his buttons all pushed when it came to the doctor. "Look, I don't know what you're talking about."

"Then allow me to refresh your memory." He smirked and waved his hand. Instantly, there were two shadow figures, mere memories of what happened, entering the library. Bathed in golden light, Asra could discern himself, with his usual clothes and purple scarf wrapped around his shoulders loosely, his past self carrying an armful of heavy tomes. The golden form of past Julian soon followed, also carrying more books and scrolls of parchment. 

"_I don't know why you need so much, Asra_," past Julian was saying as he deposited all of the things he was carrying on their desks. He groaned and rolled his shoulder, stretching a little. "_We could always share_."

"_Sure, you say that when you're the only one who keeps stealing my quills_." Asra's words may have been clipped, but his tone was light, playful. Teasing. The twinkle in his eyes was noticeable, and a ghost of a smile was on his lips. 

"_Hey!" _cried out an indignant Julian, hand on his chest in mock offense. "_How dare you call me a thief! Such strong words, such an accusatory tone! I will not stand for the besmirching of my reputation!"_

_"Oh, for the love of... I'm talking about the constant disappearance of my quills and inkwells, only for them to_ _magically appear on your desk."_

"_Well, they're from a very distinguished Magician, or so I've heard. Who's there to say they _didn't _magically appear on my desk?"_

"_My__ writing instruments do not walk off on their own."_

_"They might as well have; aren't they enchanted?"_

_"You don't know the first thing about magic if you think we use it to enchant quills and inkwells," _Asra laughed, tilting his head. _"So, I'm sorry, Doctor Devorak, but I've found you quite guilty of this crime."_

_"Oh, don't act so innocent." _

_"Excuse me?"_

Julian had a shit-eating grin plastered on his face, revealing his sharp canines and accentuating the curve of his lips. _"I'm accusing you of stealing, as well."_

_"Oh, please." _The past vision of Asra rolled his eyes and leaned back against the chair on his desk, crossing his arms defiantly. _"And what, pray tell, have I stolen?"_

There was quiet as the doctor just stopped talking, the playfulness gone from his demeanor. He leaned forward, getting all up on Asra's personal space and making him jump in surprise as a gloved hand tilted his chin up to face him. A slow smile pulled at Julian's lips, and he just huffed softly against his skin. _"You've stolen my heart."_

* * *


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I decided to post it earlier than scheduled because I just bounced back from accidentally deleting 2000 words from ch. 3 but re-writing it and basically finishing at a near 4400 word count for the last chapter. I'm hAPPY GODDAMMIT--
> 
> Also can I just say that I absolutely /love/ the dynamics between Nadia, Julian, and Asra? 
> 
> They all just meld so perfectly jfkjsklg;sjkj

* * *

Asra remembered the scene too well, because it was when he figured his mind broke for a second. Looking up at grey eyes fixated on his, the warmth of his breath ghosting over his lips, and the uncomfortably close presence of the other man made his thoughts lose their tracks in his mind. His heart was thundering inside his ribcage, and judging by how hot the tips of his ears felt, he must have been blushing like a tomato. 

"_I-Ilya, what are you-"_

_"I like you, Magician. I'm sure you've noticed."_

And he had. Asra couldn't really deny that he had read the signs well; how, whenever they were in a room together, a thick weight blanketed the atmosphere around them, and anything that they did that concerned the other felt electrically charged. Julian's fingers would linger on his shoulder when he'd lean over to check on Asra's work, or would brush against his fingertips as they handed each other scrolls or quills. When they would have dinner together in the presence of the Countess, he found the man absent-mindedly looking at Asra over the rim of their glass. 

But he really couldn't say it was one-sided. Asra was known for a soft voice but with quick and sharp wit. With Julian, this was always so pleasurably easy to bring out, as the man would riff off with him as though it was the most natural in the world. Asra knew his quirks, would often tease him about it, and there would be a warm feeling of satisfaction on his chest when the doctor would be too caught up in his thoughts, his face blooming with a faint blush, stuttering over his words, even when he was so confident merely a second ago. Asra couldn't deny in the deepest recesses of his mind that he _liked _this little cat-and-mouse game they had inadvertently gotten themselves into, with Asra teasing the ever-so-confident and ready Julian, only to twirl away out of his grasp at the last second. 

He sighed, trying to search in his heart of hearts whether or not he had any feelings for the man. Something inside him beat frantically in response, an affirmation to the question he was casting out inside the depths of himself. But something in his mind said that it was risky, and dangerous. This connection they were both seeking was unnecessary to say the least, and could distract them from the very goals that they were working on that made their paths cross in the first place.

He suddenly remembered his golden compass, and the events of that day when Julian had gotten them and the Countess hopelessly lost that one time. Asra had tried very hard to school his face into a mask of indifference when Julian had said it was pointing to him, with the doctor thinking all the while it was pointing North. He took it out of his pocket, holding it tightly in his hand. He knew the needle would recalibrate in a second, and true enough, it pointed to the direction of the docks, and to the Lazaret beyond. Not to the opposite end, in the direction of the dungeons and the library of the Palace.

"_Asra._" Julian's voice floated through his consciousness. He grimaced a little and tried to bat it away. It wouldn't do them any good if Asra acted on the impulse of the flesh. 

"_Asra_." It was more demanding this time, still hushed, but closer to his ear. It sent shivers down his spine, and it made him absolutely jolt when he felt long, tapered fingers grab hold of his wrist.

"_Asra, open your eyes.._."

Slowly, he opened his eyes, feeling a little disoriented at how much time had passed. He exhaled his breath in one long sigh, then looked around to see the Countess to his left. She had obviously gotten out of her reverie earlier than he did, but there was a calmness on her shoulders and a serene smile on her face.

"Ah, you're back then," she noted, smiling wider when Asra nodded. "Good, good. Thank you, the exercise helped me immensely. I am optimistic that this will serve me well in the days to come. And you've opened your eyes just in time, for our visitor has arrived."

"Oh, were you expecting me all this time?" A rich, baritone voice lilted over from behind Asra, and he turned around to see Doctor Devorak, grinning like a Cheshire Cat and showing off his sharp pearly whites. He was wearing his usual black buttoned-up suit that had a matching snap-on coat, and casually slung on his arm was the leather strap to his Plague mask, a big, long piece of an unmarred white the shade of bleached bone, with a beak that curved outward.

Asra's mouth had stopped working, only opening and closing like a goldfish. The Countess was the one to answer. "Yes, for nearly an hour now. I _did _specifically call on you."

"Terribly sorry, my dears." Doctor Devorak didn't waste any time, taking the Countess' hand and bowing low, his lips brushing over the back of her hand. When he straightened up, he merely winked at Asra as acknowledgement, something playful and personal. "Forgive me for making you wait. I just had to make sure everything I had to bring to the table tonight was presentable, including my own form."

"You clean up well enough, Ilya," Asra remarked, checking his attire up and down quickly, then added with a small smirk, "For a plague doctor, that is."

A faint blush spread across Julian's cheeks, and he looked absolutely flustered, much to his and the Countess' amusement. He floundered for a second then gestured to his clothes, wiping the invisible dust that had settled on his front. "Well, of course I couldn't find anything much more festive or celebratory than my usual black pieces, as I had been intending to work the whole night through until the Countess had called..."

"_Nadia, _please. We thank you for your hard work. _Both of you,_" Nadia said, gesturing towards the space beside Asra on the loveseat. Julian sat down, placing his beaked mask on the table in front of him, like a macabre centerpiece, contrasting with the joyous, golden bottle beside it. "Which is why I would personally like to thank you both. I understand you might both be overworked, so please, join me in drinking."

"Now that's what I like to hear!" Julian cheerfully whooped, taking the empty glass nearest him and refilling it with Golden Goose.

Asra hummed thoughtfully, merely watching him until Julian had raised the glass to his lips, before mumbling, "You do realize that's mine, right?"

Julian's gloved hand paused in mid-air for a second, before continuing, his lips cupping the golden rim. Asra could only regard him with a wistful look, cradling his face with his chin in amusement. "A glass is a glass, ain't it?"

"In certain traditions, that would equate to having the both of you married," Nadia mused, chuckling.

Julian sputtered, blushing once again the shade of his auburn hair. Asra merely bent to get the new glass refilled for himself, and Julian rounded on him. "Why are you acting so calm about this?!"

"The real question is, why are you flustered about this?" Asra raised one eyebrow, a ghost of a smirk on his lips as he drank more. "I would have thought a well-travelled doctor such as yourself would know this tradition."

"Yes, it's a very common practice in the South," Nadia added, face schooled in concern.

"Wh- I have _never _heard of such a thing!"

"Oh, don't act all indignant, Ilya," Asra bemoaned, pouting a little for show. "Would it really be so bad to be married to me?"

The doctor stilled for a second. Asra could see the cogs in his brain working double-time to process what he had just heard. His mouth opened and closed without sound for a few seconds, before backpedaling hard. "Wai- No, no, now hold on, t-that's not what I -"

It was only after Nadia's shoulders couldn't stay still anymore, and Asra had to cover his mouth with his hand to stifle his giggle, that it became apparent to Julian that he was the subject of a pranking. When his face fell in realization, peals of laughter came out from both the Countess and the Magician, coloring the night air with their voices full of glee.

"Oh, _har har,_" Julian groaned, rolling his eyes and his mouth twisted into a snarl, but it was all for show. The doctor was one of good nature, and would ride on a joke even if it was him on the receiving end of it. "_Real funny._"

"Your face was hilarious," Asra commented, grinning widely. He hadn't felt this light-hearted in what seemed to be a very long time. "Come on, Ilya, it's all fun and games."

"Ah yes, play with my heart as usual, Asra," he grumbled, pouting comically, then laughing along as the Countess dissolved in another fit of drunken giggling. "How many drinks have you downed, Countess?"

"Enough to still stand, Doctor Devorak, I assure you," she shot back, composing herself. 

"Good, good. I'm only looking out for you, Nadia. And you, Asra?"

"Not enough, Doctor," he said mischievously.

Julian tsked his tongue as he replenished his drink. "That simply won't do." He leaned over to replenish Nadia's glass too, then raised his own. "A toast. To the night."

Asra and the Countess followed with the vague toast, raising their respective glasses and drinking from them. Asra glanced to his right, where Julian was sitting, and noted how deeply he drank. When the man set down his glass, it was empty, and he reached for the bottle to refill it, only to find it light and empty. "Ah, we've run out..."

Nadia snapped her fingers loudly, then asked for two more bottles to be delivered from the orderly that poked his head through the curtain divide. Julian smiled in thanks. "Nadia, you really spoil us so with all this Golden Goose."

"A bottle for three people is hardly enough," she hummed, re-crossing her legs. "And Asra here has been holding back."

"Have you, now?" Julian raised his eyebrow, his gaze focusing on Asra as he fiddled with his glass. "That simply won't do, our dear magician has been stressed since stepping foot into the Palace."

"I never knew you to be so astute and observant as to how I was doing," Asra teased, raising one eyebrow.

Julian merely grinned in response. "Of course. We're basically locked in a room together for the better part of the day, if I weren't requested by Quaestor Valdemar for the experimentations down by the dungeons. I would immediately notice if you've not have enough sleep..."

"Really, now?"

"Yes, just by the amount of tea you bring into the library," he groaned, rolling his eyes dramatically as if the very thought of it made him want to absolutely die. "And it's not even just _one _kind of tea, it's varied! Lavender and green and honeysuckle rose -- they all mix together and you just downright smell!"

"Hardly; and if they ever smell, they'd be much more light to the senses as opposed to your constantly steaming pot of obsidian liquid."

"It's _black coffee,_ and it's the nectar of the gods."

"Nectar is supposed to be sweet, not bitter."

Julian snorted and turned to the Countess. "Countess - I mean, Milady Nadia, surely your wise input can help settle this debate for us."

"I've preferred neither over the other."

"We've reached an impasse, then," Asra said, pretending to look forlorn. "Nothing else can be done to move forward."

The doctor's ears visibly perked up. "Ah, but that's not exactly true! For I, Julian Devorak, have many experiences of talking 'round things that would have otherwise turned up to be unfortunate for me. For instance, once when I was but a gangly teenager, I squirrelled away from Mazelinka's ship with her shawl in my arms, and proceed to horribly lose it in a game of cards in the seedy pub, the Siren's Bay, at Nevivon..."

And that was how they wiled away the hours, with bickering and jokes and theatrics galore. Soon enough, they couldn't tell how long they had been sitting, too caught up in the enthralling tales of swashbuckling by Julian, whose eyes lit up when he told his stories on the seas. Asra knew he was sugarcoating them to make it all the more dramatic, but he couldn't help but humor the man. Child-like wonder and excitement practically vibrated off of him as he stood up and threw his arms out, gesticulating with wild abandon, his voice shifting from a loud scream to hushed tones as the story evolved. Even the Countess had leaned forward, her good mood evident what with the short intervals between laughter and giggles.

And Asra? He found himself giggling along with them, and playing along with whatever tale Julian was spinning. He'd clap in amusement when Julian would adopt a fighting stance and shout, "En garde!", or pretend to swoon in place, complete with hand on his forehead, when the doctor started to sing rowdily as if he was in a back-alley tavern and not the Palace veranda. Little by little, he found himself relaxing into the night, drinking more wine and joining in on the cacophony they were making. 

"Ah," was all the Countess could say after she caught herself yawning for the third time in the span of five minutes. "I think this is my cue to leave."

"What? Noooo, come on," Julian whined from where he was leaned back on his seat with one foot braced on the table in front of him and an arm slung around the back of the loveseat. He had already taken off his coat and loosened the strings of his white, blousy shirt as the alcohol warmed him up from the inside. "Nadi, please, you have to stay. We've barely cracked the bottles!"

"We've drunk four bottles of wine," Asra mused, swaying in his spot. He put his glass down to stop himself from unconsciously taking another sip. 

"My apologies, but I have some business matters to attend to tomorrow," she replied, but her voice was warm. She stood up and fixed the drapes of her dress, then smiled at them both. "Thank you for a fun evening. But if you're not yet done, I can send another bottle up for you and you may continue without me."

"How about it, Magician?" Julian asked, grinning from ear to ear. His eyes were still bright, twinkling underneath the shadows cast by his hair over his face. "Another bottle to break between us?"

Asra merely smiled and nodded. "As long as the Doctor clears me to."

"I do." Julian winked, then stood up to kiss Nadia's hand again. "And thank you, for your gifts and presence tonight, dear Countess. Oh, and before I forget, my reports as you requested."

"Have a good night's sleep, Nadi," Asra said, standing up hurriedly as well and bowing to her. She still was the Countess, after all.

"Thank you, both of you." Nadia's smile radiated warmth and a hint of affection for the both of them. Asra could feel it, tinging her aura a soft orange that was crackled like a fire in a hearth in the middle of winter. She kept the rolled up scrolls that Julian handed her close to her chest, then ducked out behind the curtain divide, her sure and steady footsteps fading away as she disappeared to her quarters.

As soon as she left, Asra slumped back down on the loveseat, adjusting his clothes so it wouldn't cling so much to his skin, and make it even hotter. Even though much of the material was light, airy, or otherwise sheer, he felt inexplicably warm. He thought about casting a spell to fan himself, but he didn't trust himself as much that his attention wouldn't be easily divided to anything trivial that passed his mind. 

Julian sat back down as well, occupying the other single seat across Nadia's. "Asra, are you feeling alright?" 

"Just feeling hot. The Golden Goose has taken its toll," he mumbled, closing his eyes and leaning his head back.

There was silence apart from an audible gulp from Julian, but he couldn't find it to move from what position he had put himself in. "M-Maybe you uh, maybe you should lie down. I-uh, I'll ask the servants to hold the last Golden Goose-"

"No, no, it's fine," Asra hummed and exhaled slowly. "Just need a little breather."

"Oh... alright."

"...Ilya."

"Hm?"

"Why've you moved away?"

"You want me to sit next to you?"

Asra cracked open an eye, lazily glaring up at the man who was looking all flustered, squirming on his seat. "Does the sun rise in the east and set in the west?"

Julian just laughed and relented, sidling up to him on the loveseat. Once comfortable, Asra leaned his head against his shoulder, smiling. "Thank you."

"Oh." A soft laugh escaped Julian's lips, and he looked fondly amused. "You're welcome. You know, if you wanted to lie down, you could do so on my lap. No funny business, of course..." Then he turned a little, wagging his eyebrows. "...unless you want some."

"I'm going to wait for another bottle to decide," he parried, laughing under his breath as well. He closed his eyes again, shuffling nearer to the inviting warmth. "Just stay like this, maybe."

"Alright, suit yourself," Julian hummed, squirming a little to be more in place. It made Asra's head slot neatly in place in the crook of his neck and shoulder. He felt Julian's arm slide against his back, his gloved hand settling on his waist. Nothing so demanding, but firm enough to keep him in place. "I quite like this."

"Hmm," was all Asra could say, focusing on his inhale-exhale routine. There was something so familiar in what he was breathing in, his nose so close to Julian's bare skin, but he couldn't find the exact scent. He opened his eyes again, feeling more grounded. "What are you wearing?"

"Uhh..." Julian's confusion was evident, and Asra looked up at him, smiling at the flustered expression on the doctor's face. "My... work clothes?"

"No, that's not what I meant." He laughed a little. "I've smelled your scent before. I can't quite place it, though."

"My scent?" This time, it was Julian's turn to smirk. "Oh my dear Asra, have you been sniffing and scenting me this whole time?"

"Come on, now," he huffed, sitting up more properly and playfully smacking his bare chest. He laughed as Julian yelped in surprise, the fingers around his waist squeezing a little at the impact. "Tell me where it's from!"

"Hey, now, no need for violence!" The other man squeaked, laughing as he pretended his chest was absolutely _smarting _from pain. "And those are probably my bath salts."

"Bath salts?"

"Yes, all the way from the island of Nevivon," Julian smiled, his eyes going glossy over the mention of it. "My home... I've always loved how it smelled. As fresh and tangy as the sea breeze. There's nothing quite like it."

Asra noted belatedly that that was what he had smelled in the library. Familiar because of constantly being nearby Julian, he understood why the smell was like so. It matched the man to a T -- perfectly bottling up mischief and freedom and sailing towards the unknown, with a hint of familiarity inside crystals.

They paused for a while as the curtains parted and a mild-mannered servant placed another bottle of Golden Goose into the pail of ice, shuffling away with a hurried excuse. Julian leaned away from Asra to pour for them both. He couldn't help but frown at that, already missing the man's warmth. 

Julian must've seen his expression, because right after he gave him his glass and took his own, he made sure to wrap his arms more securely around Asra's waist. To his credit, Asra blamed it wholly on the alcohol that he didn't protest, merely leaning in for more skin-on-skin connection with the doctor. "Alright, now that we're all settled and we've got our drinks, would you like me to tell you about Nevivon? You've got the face you always have when you have a burning question on your tongue."

"Don't think you know me too well, Ilya," he teased, smiling up at him fondly. "But yes, do tell."

"Gladly." Julian smiled, his arm going up form Asra's waist to his arm, rubbing it comfortingly as his other arm holding his glass of wine gesticulated in the air. "Nevivon, off South from Vesuvia. It's quainter, and shabbier. Merely a port city, but lively as all hell. Me and Pasha lived there since we were kids, and we'd get on all sorts of hijinks."

"What sorts?"

"Mmm, the running-across-the-market-being-chased-by-docked-pirates-we-stole-dubloons-from kind," he said innocently, making Asra laugh out loud. It was easy for him to imagine a young Julian, a lanky teenager with a shock of auburn hair and a shit-eating grin, and an even younger Pasha, cackling with her fiery mane flying loose from her colorful hair tie, running through stalls and wreaking havoc in the main thoroughfares of the market, clutching a ragged pouch clinking with foreign coins as a drunkard that smelled of alcohol and the sea blearily hobbled after them on his peg leg. 

"That would have been an amazing sight to behold," he finally said after his laughter had subsided, smiling as he looked up to Julian.

The doctor just returned his mirth. "Oh, no doubt. You would love Nevivon, I just know it. You said you travelled often, right?"

"I did, yes. I still do, when I find the time."

"Have you ever travelled by sea?"

"Hmmm, no, not for long durations." He hummed quietly, understanding the little hints Julian was dropping. "Why? Is Nevivon far off?"

"A few days, at the very least, if the sea is calm. If not, it could take a week or a week and a half." Julian shrugged slightly, then looked up to the moon. He sighed wistfully, before continuing. "I'd take you there, if I can."

"Wishful thinking," he commented snidely, earning him an exaggerated hurt look from the man. "What?"

"O ye of so little faith!" Julian exclaimed, clutching at his chest, above his heart, in mock pain. "I am deeply wounded by your words! They cut like a knife to hot butter!"

"I'd like to see how you can take me to Nevivon without anything buoyant enough to carry two men afloat the ocean in your possessions," Asra teased, rolling his eyes playfully, which made Julian's pout even more pronounced. "It's not like you have so much as a rowboat squirrelled away."

"Then how about this?" Julian leaned away and turned to him, hand still on his chest, but palm open against his skin. His whole demeanor changed in a heartbeat, his face falling into deadly seriousness. "If I -- no, _when _I get my hands on a sloop, I'm going to steal you away."

"'I suspect that '_getting your hands on_' a ship doesn't necessarily entail an honest-to-the-gods transaction in broad daylight."

Julian faltered a little, his ears turning pink in embarrassment. "T-T-That wasn't part of the deal."

"Figures."

"I'm serious!" He huffed. "All I need is a ship and we're good to go. Just say the word, and take my hand. I'll take you anywhere you want. Cross my heart."

"Is that so?" Asra purred, leaning closer to him, to look into his eyes and see whether he was making an empty promise.

"Yes, I swear by the power of the seagods," Julian stated, never breaking eye contact. "And if Mazelinka taught me correctly, that makes my promise binding."

Asra levelled him with a scrutinizing look, then he nodded minutely. "Alright, Ilya..." Before he could stop himself, his hand snaked up from Julian's arm, then came to rest on the hand that Julian held over his heart. He squeezed it encouragingly, before his fingers slotted in between his. "I trust you to hold onto your word."

It didn't take much to make Julian blush, and before he knew it, his face was burning, as red as his hair. But he didn't move his hand away, and nor did Asra.

They didn't say anything else, merely regarded themselves and each other, not moving, breathing shallowly as though in anticipation. Both of them looked frozen in time, even though they both knew that they weren't, but it was a spell nonetheless, something they were both too scared to break. Asra could feel Julian's heart thundering against his ribcage, feel it beat wildly against the confines of his flesh under their entwined fingers.

And as he kept looking into his grey eyes, Asra couldn't deny that his heart was doing the same thing. It was pining, positively _yearning _for something he hadn't felt reciprocated in a long time. Affection, one that ran deep. A great appreciation for his existence, which he felt so deeply treasured at this moment in time. And he would be considered crass for admitting it out loud, but he identified the burning, coiling sensations of lust snaking its way from deep within him. 

He didn't know what broke the spell, or if there was any cue for them to move at the same time. Hypnotized, Asra just leaned in and closed the gap between their lips, his eyes fluttering shut when Julian met him halfway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leave some comments and kudos to support a writer that feeds on pizza and compliments <3


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Explicit R18 stuff ahead!

* * *

Their arms circled around the other, Asra's around Julian's waist, and Julian linking his wrists together around Asra's neck. A few sighs of pleasure and relief were exchanged as they move, tilting their heads seamlessly this way and that to try new positions, gain more access.

Asra was the first to use teeth, biting against the plump of Julian's lower lip. He didn't expect such an instantaneous response, but the guttural moan that escaped the doctor's lips made him smirk. "Now, now, Ilya, control yourself..."

"_Fuck,_ _more..._" Julian practically breathed, and Asra was only too happy to comply. With a few more nips and practiced licks, he had Julian practically mewling under his grasp. Asra slid his tongue inside his mouth, effectively shushing him as he explored everything that Julian wanted to open up for him, which was a lot. The only thing he did was to grasp at his hair, from the long locks to the short hairs behind Asra's neck, tugging at them unconsciously and making him growl under his breath. "Shit, sorry, I..."

Asra leaned back for a bit, a thin tendril of saliva bridging their two hot, messy, and bruised lips together. He chuckled to himself, his voice sultry when he spoke. "Ilya..."

Julian visibly shuddered, eyes half-lidded and glazed over. "Fuck, for the sake of my sanity, don't use that voice..."

"What, _this_ voice?" He teased, leaning forward and over his shoulder just to huff into his ear. "Is it... insufferable?" Asra gave a playful nip over the shell of Julian's ear. It was rewarding to hear a sharp intake of breath immediately after.

"No, no, not at all --"

"Then tell me, dear Doctor Ilya," he whispered, both hands on the other's shoulders and licking at his ear lobe. "Do you want me tonight?"

A satisfying groan escaped Julian's lips, sending shivers down Asra's spine as the doctor's gloved hands slid down to his hips, squeezing them. "_Yes."_

He bit back down a moan that tried to escape his lips, and just crushed his lips against Julian's, needy and desperate and sloppy. He didn't even care at this point what he was doing. He swore to himself that he'd shy away from him, that he'd nip this in the bud before it bloomed. But his control had slipped the night of the blood ritual, and he hadn't been able to take a better grip on his reins ever since.

Julian was as insistent as ever, flesh and mouth pliant as usual. Asra noted he was usually vocal, sometimes maddeningly so, his mouth running miles and miles if Asra didn't have his mouth or something else occupying it. But now, both of them buzzed from Golden Goose and filled with a hunger they both couldn't control, Julian was left in a pile of goop, barely able to put whatever he was thinking into words. It became even more prominent as Asra left his mouth alone, peppering his jawline and neck with sucks and nips and kisses that he was sure would bruise by morning. 

"Fuck, _fuck, _Asra-"

"Eloquent as always, Ilya," he teased, leaning back up to bite at his lower lip, plump from all of his attacks. "Whatever shall we do with that mouth of yours?"

His ears perked up at the hint of what he wanted. Julian moved to stand up, but Asra held him back, palm flat against his chest and pushing him back down. Confusion flitted across Julian's face, and he looked up, searching for answers. "Do you not want to go further?"

He smirked at him and kissed him languidly. "I do..."

Julian kissed back, attempting to slide down to the floor onto his knees. "Then let me..."

"No." Before he could do so, Asra quickly straddled Julian, arcing his body so his knees were pinned on either side of the doctor's hips. His hands were on either side of Julian's head, effectively caging him. He tilted his head to the side, a devious smirk curling at his lip. "Do you want me?"

Still so flustered, Julian nodded erratically. "Y-Yes, of course -"

"Like this?" Asra leaned closer, then sat on his lap. Julian's arms circled around his waist slowly, before pulling him flush against his skin. Purring, Asra couldn't help but ground his hips against Julian's, humming with satisfaction when he discerned the familiar length and girth of Julian's hardness, barely concealed. "Mmm, should I take that as a yes?"

"W-Well, what can I say?" Julian stuttered as Asra's hands kept roaming over his body, lips latching onto his jugular and trailing down to his collarbones. "I'm very, ah - _very _happy to see you tonight."

"You and I both," he whispered, leaning back only to get an ice cube from the pail. Julian held him firmly down, until he returned, a single ice cube prepped between fingers. "Now, do you want to be a good boy?"

Just those last two words had Julian _keening. _"Yes, please."

"A good boy for me?" Asra licked at the ice cube suggestively, knowing that even in the dark, Julian's eyes would follow the track of his tongue as it darted out of his mouth.

"Yes, oh God...!"

"_That's my good boy,_" he whispered, then placed the fingers holding up the ice cube to his lips.

Something dark and possessive overtook him as Julian's eyes glazed over, his tongue lapping at the ice cube. It melted with the warmth of his tongue and from the heat of Asra's skin, sending trails of water down his wrist. He tried distracting himself, pulling roughly at Julian's shirt to expose his shoulder. He sank his teeth under the skin impulsively, chuckling as it made Julian hiss and the muscle go taut. He lapped at the blood that welled on his skin, the coppery taste and smell reminding him of the first time they had spent together.

"Two can play at that game," Julian mumbled, as he licked and nipped at the ice cube and at his fingertips. Asra lifted his head but couldn't do anything but stare, and when Julian finally finished, he didn't stop, taking in Asra's fingers in his mouth and emitting, quite possibly, one of the lewdest sounds he had ever heard in his life. He chuckled to himself before pulling his fingers away, making Julian watch as he licked them as well, tasting his saliva on the pads of his fingertips.

His tongue went further down, snaking across his palm and wrist, only to ghost and eventually ghost over his pulse point, sucking on the skin until a mark appeared. Asra sighed quietly in pleasure, his fingers trailing gently along the side of Julian's face. His eyes were closed, and Asra subconsciously traced his dark eyelashes with his thumb. The doctor moaned quite a little, then finally leaned back as Asra removed his hand to survey the blooming mark on the inside of his wrist.

Julian opened his eyes and gulped uneasily at Asra's faraway expression. "Was I...?"

"Good? As always, Ilya," he purred, then tugged his shirt free from his pants, and over his head, throwing it unceremoniously on the floor. 

Julian merely grinned eagerly at him, capturing Asra's neck and jaw in tiny little kisses. Not as rough, but sucking them to mark just the same. Asra let out a small moan as his fingers deftly pulled apart the buttons keeping his corset together, making to unclasp them all the way. By the last three clasps, Asra stopped him, holding onto his wrist. 

"Not all the way," he teased, winking at him. Julian blushed and nodded, then just shrugged off a part of his top from his shoulders, the fabric hanging loosely from his frame like a shawl while exposing his neck, shoulders, and chest. He paused for a bit, deftly tugging off his gloves. The doctor didn't waste any more time, his lips and tongue giving Asra's pert nipple the attention they craved. Asra covered his mouth with his hand just as a moan escaped in between his lips, Julian being merciless in his attempt to nip and bite and suck and _mark _his skin. "Ah, Ilya...!"

"Anything," Julian whispered, his thumbs rubbing soothing circles against Asra's hips. He shivered at the sensation of him tracing the dip running down his thighs. "I'd do anything..."

"Anything?" He teased, with Julian nodding. His breath was erratic, and the thumping of his heart in his chest was loud and arrhythmic. Asra heard an audible gulp, the sound catching at Julian's throat when his hand unabashedly reached for the hardness in Julian's pants, palming it roughly. "I want this."

It almost made him laugh, the sight of Julian's confused expression and him going from a squirming hot mess to stock still in the span of a few seconds. "Wait, what --"

"Didn't you say you'd do anything?" Asra raised his eyebrows, then lifted his hips a few inches from Julian's lap. He took the other man's hands, making his fingers catch on the waistband of his cullottes. A flash of understanding went through Julian's face, and Asra cupped his jaw with his hand, endearingly. Almost lovingly. "I want you in me, Ilya. Do you understand, or do you need me to spell it out for you in even plainer terms?"

"No, I-I understand," was his quick reply. "I told you, I'd give all of me and I'd take what I can get from you. But I don't..." He blushed, stuttering to get the words out. "I don't have any..."

"Lube?" Asra raised an eyebrow, and Julian nodded sheepishly. "Give me your hand."

He raised his hand to his face in an instant, and Asra saw that it was the hand that he had wounded for the blood ritual he had done a few weeks back.

He smiled and gave feather-light kisses to the shiny scar on the doctor's palm, before leaning upwards to take a finger into his mouth. Julian merely watched as Asra made quick work, sucking on his fingertips. He started with one finger, biting and nipping at the tip playfully, before taking the whole digit into his mouth, quickly adding another one in and scraping his teeth against the doctor's gentle, tapered fingers. 

By the time he had finished, he leaned back with a sinful little pop of his lips. Even in the moonlight, he knew Julian's eyes were following the dart of his tongue, licking at Asra's lips, an action the doctor mimicked. Asra lifted his hips and canted his ass upwards, pushing down the waistband of his cullottes, just over his pert ass and mid-way down his thighs. "Ready?"

"Y-Yes." Julian's dry hand held onto his hip, while the other aligned itself with his entrance. Asra leaned forward and braced himself, hands on Julian's shoulders, anticipating the feeling. He must have looked tense, because Julian was being _exceedingly _gentle, his fingers prodding at his entrance lightly, making sure it would give with every millimeter.

Asra was flushing, panting in anticipation already. "Ilya, y-you don't have to..."

"Of course I do." It was so soft, Asra barely heard it when Julian said it under his breath, but he didn't get to comment anyway. Julian surged up with a kiss, so gentle that it forced the breath right out of him. His finger slid into him easily, earning him a soft moan and sigh of relief from the magician on his lap. He curled his finger experimentally, then started moving it slowly, letting him get used to the feeling. 

Asra pressed himself flush against Julian's strong form, his fingers finding the tassels that cinched Julian's pants at his waist. He deftly tugged them loose, then kissed him once more, mumbling. "Lift your hips for me for a sec?"

Julian complied, doing as he was told with Asra shimmying his pants down to the knees and freeing his erection. Once they settled back down, Julian added another finger, making Asra _groan _in pleasure. His head sank back down against his shoulder, one hand wrapped around Julian's shoulders, and tugging at the fine hairs behind his neck. The other found itself wrapped around the familiar length and girth of his hardness, squeezing at the base. "My, you're certainly happy to see me."

When Julian started working his fingers inside him even more, making him more pliant and wet and ready, Asra was already mewling in delight. His fingers worked as well, making sure Julian was well taken care of. Soft words of encouragement would be huffed into Julian's ear, complete with the voice that he had begged Asra not to use in the first place. "Ah, that's it, you're so good...~ You're making me feel all wonderful...~"

"Asra..." Julian was biting his lip, trying to stifle a moan as Asra sucked against his Adam's apple, prominent on his throat especially now when he kept gulping as though swallowing the words he so desperately wanted to blurt out. To his credit, Asra kept his cool, feeling pleasure on all sides from being penetrated from behind, as well as the burning sensation of satisfaction on his chest as his hands stroked Julian's cock relentlessly. Long, fluid motions of his hand, roughly palming him and trailing the sensitive underside of his hard member.

There was a tell-tale twitch to Julian's cock as Asra used his voice to murmur sweet nothings into his skin. He made sure to scent it, lapping up at the tracks of salty sweat on his neck and marking him yet again at the juncture of his neck and shoulder. He was shaking in pleasure, moans coming in shorter intervals as Julian kept going, brushing against a soft spot that made his spine go ram-rod still and his fingers tug painfully against his hair.

Julian merely hissed, a mixture of pain and pleasure, and Asra looked up to see him flustered and blushing, as red as his hair. There was already warm pre-come making Asra's fingers sticky, and he stopped his ministrations on him. The action alone made Julian keen in disappointment, and he rutted his hips against Asra's involuntarily, still seeking after the expert feel of Asra's fingers around him. "Ah, _please - "_

"Now, now," Asra mumbled, kissing him again. His fingers found its way again in Julian's hair, gently tugging at the curls at the top of his head. "I won't have you come just yet... Not when I'm ready as well."

Julian nodded, pulling his fingers out. Asra lifted his hips as well, and Julian watched him as though mesmerized. He must have been a sight, with his hair disheveled, mouth parted as he panted, his skin and clothes bathed in moonlight, the crystals on his clothes sparkling when it caught the light. There were kisses promptly given, almost reverent, as Julian's mouth was at the same level as Asra's torso at this point, and he kissed each and every line and dip along his ribcage, sending shivers up and down the magician's body. "Asra..."

He looked down, carding his fingers through Julian's hair and tugging a little experimentally, making Julian look up at him. Asra took in the sight of him like this, blushing and panting as well, his lips bruised and bleeding at the corner from where Asra had bit on it one too many times. His top was a flouncy mess on his body, exposing only one shoulder where Asra's bite mark was prominently on display, an arc of teeth marks that would surely scar nicely. Asra just smiled with a certain bittersweet fondness, cupping his face with both hands and leaning down for a kiss. 

Julian reciprocated in kind, grinding his hips up when Asra sat back down again on his lap. Julian was hard beneath him, and he leaned forward for a better angle. "Be a good boy," he whispered in between one heated kiss to another, "And please me, Ilya..."

Thankfully, he wasn't the kind to dilly-dally and tease Asra like he teased him. It took a few second for him to align, and Asra to get into position, and in one crucially hot moment, Asra felt him enter, slowly inching his cock into him. Asra tensed up, his hands on Julian's shoulders becoming claw-like with its vice-grip. He only exhaled the breath that he had unconsciously been holding when Julian finally sheathed everything in. "That's it, you're so big..."

"Asra, please, for the love of God," Julian whispered, his breath coming in short pants and bursts. He had a pained expression on his face, no doubt he was holding back. "Please, that voice..."

"If it's going to make you show me that beautiful expression more, I'm going to use it as much as I want," he quipped, chuckling as Julian groaned and threw his head back. Asra held him up, hands snaking to hold his head from behind his neck. "You're holding back, aren't you, Ilya?"

Julian sputtered, flustered, but nodded after a few seconds of silence. "H-How would you like it to be?"

"How do you imagine yourself taking me?" He whispered, licking at his lips seductively, smiling as a faint whisper escaped Julian's lips. "That is, if you've imagined taking me in the first place."

"I-I have, I..." There was an audible gulp, and Asra had to grind his hips back down against the now-familiar stretch and warmth in his body to force out a quicker answer. "Rough."

Satisfied, Asra surged up with another kiss, reassuring and gentle. "Go on, then, doctor. I won't break."

Julian seemed to get the message, kissing back to relay that he understood. He pulled back, nearly taking his cock out, before thrusting it all back in in one sudden movement, knocking the breath out from Asra as he did so. "Oh, fuck...!"

Encouraged by the litany of moans and curses streaming from Asra's lips, Julian kept moving, his hips thrusting at a steady pace. Asra was grinding down too, matching his pace and keeping their upper bodies as close and as busy as possible. His hands were skimming Julian's skin, finding solace in its warmth. He scratched lightly at the fine red hairs of his chest, his nails grazing at Julian's pink nipples. It made him jolt upward, which sent Asra's hips up too, as he moaned up with a cry. 

"Ah, fuck... Just like that, Ilya, yes..~" he purred, biting and nipping at Julian's jawline.

Julian's hands roamed down on his back, following the trail of his spine from the back of his neck all the way to his tailbone. "Asra, I swear to God..."

"Harder," he whispered, biting at his collarbone and making the man moan. "I know you want to, Ilya."

And Julian complied, with each thrust of his hips earning a well-earned moan from his mouth. But he was getting loud, and Asra needed a plan to keep the servants from finding them out. Deftly, he picked up Julian's discarded glove, and made him bite the side of it. Julian did so, looking up at him wordlessly, but moaned around the material just the same. 

"You'll need to be quiet," he chuckled, then pushed back against his chest. Asra leaned back, panting as he gave Julian a lewd display of how he looked -- disheveled and sweaty, bouncing on his hard cock with his clothes in disarray.

Julian smirked around the leather that he was biting, waggling his eyebrows suggestively. He didn't need a mouth to communicate exactly what thoughts were running rampant in his mind.

Flustered, Asra started moving his hips, controlling the pace. Julian just held still, hands on Asra's hips, squeezing and tracing little patterns that made his skin tingle. His touch lingered a lot on his hipbones, massaging them in a way that was making Asra finding it hard to keep quiet as well.

He belatedly thought whether he should get Julian's other glove and stuff it in his mouth to prevent them getting found out, but one look at Julian, who looked like he was watching his face and mouth too intently, made him banish the thought. The man liked his voice. He'll give him just that.

"So big..." he complimented, making his muscles tighten up under him. Julian's eyes rolled to the back of his head with a groan of pleasure, his head lolling to the side in dramatic fashion. "You're doing so well..." He bit the shell of his ear, making sure his voice was thick with lust and pleasure when he murmured, "Why don't you do me rougher, make this a night to remember?"

Julian didn't need to be told twice. His hands squeezed down on Asra's hips and began thrusting more in earnest, his hips snapping up against him. The slap of sweaty skin, the quiet moans and desperate grunts from both men, were swept away by the cool breeze, making them both shiver as it blew past them. Asra distracted himself, tried to mark all the spots on Julian's chest and neck that _hadn't _yet bloomed red under his expert mouth, just so he could do something else other than moan, but he made sure to throw out multiple compliments, words of encouragement, all endearing and lustful to the man beneath him.

"Ah...!" Asra suddenly cried out as the doctor hit a sweet spot that sent a shiver up his spine. He went still, breath shaky, then looked up at Julian with wide-eyed wonder. "There, do it again...!"

Julian merely winked, hands moving from his hips to cup both cheeks of his ass, and did as he was told. 

"I-Ilya, yes, fuck...!" Asra groaned, his throat sore from all of his grunts and moans of pleasure. Julian nailed every single one of his aimed thrusts, and soon Asra was a quivering mess of garbled up emotions threatening to explode at any moment. Spots danced around his vision, and he buried his face against the crook of Julian's neck, eyes closed, letting the doctor do his best.

The other man spat the glove away, taking one hand off and tilting Asra's head up to meet him with a soft kiss. "God, look at you... I want to see you like this, burned into my brain, for me to reminisce over at any point of the day..."

Asra blushed furiously, but kissed back all the same. He didn't know how he could answer to such a passion-filled, hushed statement, the confession hanging heavy in between their panting bodies. His thighs were already shaking from the strain of keeping his body up and taking Julian in, and he practically mewled into his mouth as he felt the familiar tension in his gut taking form. "I-Ilya... Ilya, please, I'm going to come..."

"Go on," he whispered, and a hand snaked in between their stomachs. Julian's long fingers wrapped around Asra's own weeping cock, and stroked in time with his already-stuttering thrusts. 

Julian's thick, hard cock, the added stimulation around his own, and one last fiery kiss was all it took to send Asra tumbling over the edge, his vision going white for a half-second. His arms had wrapped around Julian's shoulders, and he pulled him close at his climax, crying out Julian's name over his shoulder as he came, shuddering with its strength and suddenness. Streaks of his own come were painted across his stomach and some reached his chest, contrasting with his dark skin. "Oh, f-fuck..."

But Julian wasn't done yet, and Asra was still shivering, over-stimulated, as Julian kept thrusting into him, crying out all of a sudden with a garbled version of Asra's name as he came as well. He pulled out a second before, and Asra watched his expression as he finished himself off, his hand pumping his cock over the edge. Warm come splashed across his lower back, and Asra shivered, delighted in the fact that it was kind of like marking him. He found it _extremely _hot.

And the face that Julian was making? All spent and tuckered out, but satisfaction clear across his face? Asra chuckled quietly to himself, finding himself wanting to cherish this memory as well. All the times Julian would wear his mask, and the most vulnerable and open he was with his emotions was after sex.

He made a show of leaning forward, hand between their bottoms as he reached for the doctor's cock, come still dripping from the head, and took a drop on his finger. He licked at his fingertip, eyes half-lidded and making a cute, sucking noise as he finished it off. Julian watched him with interest, eyes still hazy from his orgasm, but there was a twinkle of mischief, a promise of something more. 

"Like the taste?" he teased, stroking through Asra's sweaty hair fondly, to get a better look at that handsome face. 

"I do," he mumbled. "Here, judge for yourself." And he leaned forward, kissing him, the flavor of sweat and come and dried blood all mixing together as their tongues danced together. Less heated than when they started, but full of passion all the same.

"God, Asra, don't do this," Julian whispered, looking up at him. "At this rate, I'm gonna be tempted for another round."

Asra merely waggled his eyebrows, and, when faced with Julian's incredulous expression, stated, "What if I extended an invitation?"

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me." Asra felt a little bit more level-headed now. There was still alcohol in his system, but he knew that he didn't mind. With a soft murmur and a snap of his fingers, a portal opened beside them, the entrance ringed golden by his light. 

When Julian peeked over to see where it led, he smirked as he recognized the dark interior of Asra's guest bedroom in the castle. "Round two, then?"

"Ready when you are," Asra teased, standing up on shaky legs as he walked through the portal, waiting for him to follow.

The good doctor just laughed and bent to pick up their discarded clothing. He paused, then also brought the unfinished bottle of Golden Goose, winking at Asra and brandishing it as he walked through the portal. "You know, just in case."

Asra chuckled, meeting his lips for another kiss, full of promise for the night to come, as the portal closed, leaving the veranda deserted just as another evening breeze blew past.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos and comments for more Julian/Asra spicy fics? ;^)

**Author's Note:**

> I divided this into three parts because holy hecking heck this is at 11k words and I'm 80% done writing the whole thing in the time of posting. All I ever had in mind was Julian and Asra fucking after getting drunk on Golden Goose with Nadia, but it became longer and longer unu
> 
> Leave a comment and give some kudos if you want more of Julian/Asra!
> 
> As I said earlier, new chapters are added on the third day after posting day, so get bookmark away <3


End file.
